


Medic

by Rin_the_Shadow



Series: To Turn Spark [1]
Category: Transformers (Unicron Trilogy), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Armada
Genre: (possibly) canon compliant, AU to Transformers Armada, Analytical Red Alert, Gen, Not shipping - Freeform, Possibly Friendship of some sort?, Repairs, adjusting to Autobot life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 09:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13291632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rin_the_Shadow/pseuds/Rin_the_Shadow
Summary: "Bonus Scene" to Transformers: Armada. Red Alert fixes an injury Starscream received on a mission. Neither is particularly happy about this.





	Medic

**Author's Note:**

> In my other Transformers fic, I'd made several references, most of which were to actual episodes. However, one flashback involving Optimus Prime was completely made up. I wasn't going to write it originally, but I thought it might be fun to try it.

It was an interesting experience, having the former Decepticon as a part of their crew. Red Alert paused for a moment. Former did not seem like the correct terminology. He still referred to himself as a Decepticon, and his behavior, though he had aligned himself with them, was still very much that of a Decepticon. Their mission to Megatron’s Mini-Con labor camp had certainly proved that much. It was a difficult concept for the medic, seeing someone so consumed with revenge that he hadn’t even seemed to realize he was jeopardizing the mission. He suspected this wouldn’t be the last of that.

Pausing in his work, Red Alert sighed inwardly. How much of that recklessness could be attributed to the seeker’s age? Some of it certainly mirrored Sideswipe’s tendency to jump in without thinking. The motivations were different, but the results were often the same. Or perhaps it was closer to Hot Shot’s actions when he had possessed the Star Saber. Actually, now that he thought about it, that tendency towards recklessness was becoming almost commonplace here.

None were quite as pronounced as Starscream’s, though. That, Red Alert had worked out, was probably amplified by the fact that he was, after all, a Decepticon. He had once indulged himself in a hypothetical scenario of what he himself would look like among the Decepticons. Indecisive, perhaps, where among the Autobots he was simply analytical? Cowardly where among the Autobots he was merely cautious? Complacent where Optimus called him patient? He was already aware that some of his own thought him “fussy” for his adherence to a strict sickbay protocol. What would the Decepticons have made of that? Yet try as he might, he couldn’t find the logic in Starscream’s behavior.

He had once overheard Scavenger telling Optimus Prime that the power dynamic was very different among the Decepticons. While the Autobots had a fairly set chain of command, under Megatron’s leadership, the only established link was Megatron himself. Certainly, some followers could earn a higher place—a temporary higher place—by having some precedent of victory. But that lasted only as long as the soldier’s luck. And unlike Optimus, who was more than willing to give his soldiers a chance to try, with Megatron, it was as if they should have already proved themselves. Scavenger had also hinted that he suspected intimidation procedures were going on.

Perhaps that was why Optimus had been so lenient with their newest recruit. Even with his supposed patience, Red Alert had found himself exasperated by Starscream’s behavior on more than one occasion. But despite their time serving together, Optimus had seen significantly more than Red Alert. His experience was by no means a sheltered one, not with the sorts of injuries that came into the medbay, and certainly not with the number of times he’d had to rush out to make a rescue. But Optimus had seen a lot more of the Decepticons in action. He had probably had time to observe the traces of the things Scavenger had mentioned.

Where Red Alert was logical, Optimus Prime was compassionate. Where Red Alert saw facts and circuitry, Optimus Prime saw lives that could be changed. He was by no means the computer drone some had made him out to be, but he had no delusions of being gifted in Cybertronian relations. Optimus was their leader, their diplomat, and Red Alert was content to remain the medic, as unambitious as it may have seemed.

And so, with a sigh, he retrieved his equipment and turned to face the (irritated-looking) seeker on the surgical berth behind him.

“Well, the good news is you won’t have to replace any of the cables in your arm. It’ll be a simple procedure to reconnect them.” He took a moment to examine the bracing he would use to keep the arm from moving. “And you should, with proper recuperation, retain your full range of motion.”

“And let me guess, the bad news is no away missions for your newest scrapling for one week Cybertronian time?”

“One week _Earth_ time, actually.” Red Alert tried to remain unfazed by the slur. ‘Scrapling’ was hardly an appropriate term for such an easily treatable injury, and a rather juvenile slur besides. “After that, if Optimus puts you on an away mission, I would have no objections, provided you neither transform nor engage in hand to hand combat. Although if it were absolutely necessary, bracing could be rigged…”

“I didn’t ask for a complete diagnosis!” Starscream snapped. “Just hurry up and get on with it!”

“Very well,” he answered. “I’ll need you to lie back to minimize the risk of movement during the procedure. There should be minimal discomfort, but should you need it, I could provide—”

“I don’t need any.” The seeker’s tone made it clear that this was not up for discussion.

“All right, then. Shall we proceed?”

Starscream sat back, keeping his optics trained on Red Alert. He was almost tempted to ask what he expected to happen, but he could infer how he would react if he did. It was better to save the questions until he didn’t have a seeker with exposed wiring on his medical table. So instead he simply swallowed his questions and went to work.

“Do you actually know how to repair a seeker?”

Red Alert suppressed a sigh. He had wondered how long it would be before he’d start his commentary. When he thought about it, he was almost surprised it had ever ceased. He had tried for a scathing tone, but the Autobot medic hadn’t missed the tension just below the surface.

He paused for a moment, searching for the best way to phrase it. “You’ve met Jetfire since you’ve been here, is that correct?”

Starscream visibly struggled not to balk. “You expect your experience with a slagging—!”

“There are differences, of course,” Red Alert cut him off. After all, he couldn’t have him getting up while he was still connected to several important cables. “Plating structure is different, especially in the construction of the wings, and of course, there are differences in higher-level programming. But at the basic level, most connections function in approximately the same way. Even some basic programming has similar coding.”

“Well, that’s more than I ever wanted to know,” he grumbled, more to himself than anything. Red Alert could almost hear the unspoken monologue as he no doubt continued to grouse over the possibility of shared programming codes with an Autobot.

Honestly. With Cybertronian biology, there was only so much variation. Some shared coding was inevitable. Although he severely doubted he was the first the seeker had learned of it.

“If it’s of any consolation to you, I did say there are higher-level programming differences. But yes, I am familiar enough that I won’t put you offline,” he said.

“How reassuring.” The clipped tone made it obvious he was being sarcastic, especially when he was certain that in any other situation, Starscream would have been able to offer a far more detailed commentary.

Red Alert decided it was best not to respond, as he gave the cable one last twist into place. The seeker flinched slightly, but opted to shoot him a glare rather than any scathing remark. He checked the connection once more, just to be sure he hadn’t connected the wrong wires by mistake—it had never happened before, but then, he had only ever repaired a seeker model in simulation before this. It was certainly possible.

Seeing that there was no error, the medic moved to set the bracing. Starscream smirked. “And here I thought you were paranoid, Autobot. Or perhaps it’s no loss to send the Decepticon back out.”

Red Alert felt his optics glitch. “As I mentioned before, that’s up to Optimus Prime, and you wouldn’t be sent on away missions this soon. At this stage, I would require bracing for any of our soldiers in order to prevent excessive jostling of the injury.”

“Right, because it’s not like your base is more padded than an Iacon spark chamber, unless you expect me to trip,” came the undignified response.

He resisted the urge to point out the architectural inaccuracies of that statement. “You forget the training quarters. From what I’ve seen, you are primarily a warrior, and you’ve frequently been outside to train as well. Additionally, there is always the possibility of a Decepticon attack on the base.” Not to mention, Starscream didn’t get along with most of the crew here. While he didn’t think any of the team would start something intentionally, there was always the possibility of an argument coming to blows.

“So you are expecting me to fight.” His tone was almost smug, as close as he would ever come to directly saying “I told you so.”

“I am preparing for it as a potential occurrence, yes.” Red Alert had seen how quickly arguments between Starscream and the others could escalate even when he wasn’t baiting them. He had no desire to compare reaction times. “But that doesn’t mean I’m recommending it.”

For a moment, he seemed to be wrestling with his next thought. A part of him wondered if he was going to continue pressing the point or mock his medical skills. But to his surprise, he looked away with a quiet, “Hmm…”

He wasn’t sure why this sudden contemplative side surprised him. After all, he couldn’t possibly spend all his time scrapping rocks and swearing revenge on Megatron. Nevertheless, it was a stark contrast to the endless commentary he’d given before. It was probably best to finish the bracing before it ended, he thought, securing the last of it.

“There,” he said. “How is that?”

The seeker frowned at the newly-bound appendage, flexing and then closing his hand experimentally. His lip curled into a half-hearted sneer. “I’ll manage it.”

Red Alert figured that answer would have to do for now. “If anything happens to knock that loose, or if you feel pain or simply that something is off, you will need to come back here as soon as you are able. Assuming it’s healing properly, you can be cleared for away missions in one week Earth time.”

“And how long until I can remove it?” the seeker replied, still staring at his bracing.

“That depends. Ideally, it would be removed in ten days Earth time, but if you were to engage in hand-to-hand combat, it would be best to leave it for longer as a precaution.”

“Heh…you Autobots _are_ paranoid.” He wasn’t sure if his tone was scathing or amused. Perhaps it was both. But before Red Alert could say anything more, Starscream was off the medical table and out of the medbay altogether.

“Wait! I wasn’t finished—” He started to call after him, and then thought better of it. As fast as he’d left, if Red Alert had made him come back, he probably would’ve half-listened, and then done just the opposite out of spite. Although it was no paint off his plating, that wasn’t a surgery he was in any hurry to perform. Then again, knowing his luck…

Red Alert sighed and moved to set the instruments for the inevitable emergency cable-splicing surgery.

**Author's Note:**

> Something I'd noticed in Transformers: Armada was that in several episodes, a Decepticon is shown at the lunar base fixing his own arm or other injuries. 
> 
> Of course, reviews/comments are welcome. I'd like to know what you think.  
> ~Rin


End file.
